


Belle and the Bete

by imaginary_golux



Category: Beauty and the Beast - All Media Types
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-05
Updated: 2012-06-05
Packaged: 2017-11-06 23:01:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/424206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginary_golux/pseuds/imaginary_golux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Belle knows that beasts can be tamed.  The only real problem is that this Beast is female.  Written for the Disney Kink Meme.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Belle and the Bete

There were two problems with the…urges…Belle was feeling towards the Bête. First, of course, was the fact that she was a _Bête_ , and good girls (which Belle was, thank you, unwomanly bookishness notwithstanding) did not have…urges…for such unsuitable creatures as nonhuman Bêtes. But second, and rather more dramatically problematic (after all, Bêtes, as everyone knows, can be tamed), was the fact that the Bête was a _she_.

Good girls did not have…urges…for other girls. It simply wasn’t done. If Belle wasn’t so bookish, she wouldn’t even know such things were _possible_ , but one cannot simply unread the unexpurgated works of Sappho. But Sappho or no Sappho, what is just barely acceptable for ancient Greek poets is most decidedly not acceptable for good, modern French girls.

Belle was quite certain on both of these points. They were clear and sharp-edged in her mind. And they did nothing at all to diminish the…urges…to spread herself out on the rug in front of the damnably attractive (why, why was she so attractive?) Bête and beg to have filthy, depraved, and utterly wonderful things done to her ever-so-willing body.

It does not help that Belle is quite sure that if she _were_ to…approach…the Bête, she would be met with open arms and enthusiastic reciprocation. The Bête, after all, makes no secret of the fact that she wishes for Belle to promise to stay with her forever, to love and be loved. And when Belle is honest with herself, she knows she wants to stay. The Bête cannot offer the husband-children-happy-home that Belle has always assumed will someday be hers (a ship’s captain, she sometimes dreamed, who would take her with him on his voyages, or a merchant who would take her in his caravan to far-off lands), but…she is sweet, in an odd hesitant way. She tries to make Belle happy.

Belle is, she assures herself, a sensible girl, and therefore she has too much sense to _actually_ go splay herself out on that rather enticing rug in front of the library fire, but she also accepts that sometimes you just have to…let your subconscious get the odd urges out of the way. So tonight she’s planning to _actually_ imagine what she could do with the Bête, if she dared.

Kissing, of course, would be difficult considering the fangs, but probably possible if they were both careful. And the Bête has a long and very nearly prehensile tongue, which could…well. There’s that one bit in the _Kama Sutra_ (which her father does not know she has read) that could be rather fun with a tongue like that. And Belle thinks perhaps she wouldn’t mind reciprocating, if the Bête didn’t mind the limitations of a short little human tongue. And though the Bête’s fingers are a little too clawed to be welcome between Belle’s legs, where she is wet and warm and wanting, that does not mean that _Belle’s_ fingers could not venture there. After all, the Bête might like to watch. Or Belle might like to see the big, strong, terrifying Bête down on _her_ back, legs splayed, hands clutching the carpet and eyes closed in pleasure…gracious, yes.

*

Belle, flat on her back in her luxurious bed, looks down her body to where her fingers are buried inside herself, and says aloud, swearing for the first time in her life, “Fuck this.” She stands up, not bothering to put on her over-robe or wash her hands, and stomps out of her room and down the halls to the library, where the Bête sits staring into the fire. Belle moves to stand in front of her, and the expression of stunned lust on the Bête’s unexpectedly expressive face is immensely gratifying: apparently Belle in nothing but a sheer nightgown is something the Bête is very glad to see.

Belle does not bother talking. Words cannot possibly do anything but mess this up. She takes her courage in both hands, leans forward, and kisses the Bête full on the mouth. It is, as she expected, a little awkward with the fangs – and the fact that the Bête is too stunned to do anything for a long moment – but then it is wet and warm and there are tongues involved, and some minutes later Belle finds herself on her back, in front of the fire, on the very soft rug that she has been eyeing for days, with the Bête hunkered down between her legs looking like a starving woman presented with a feast. Belle grins, and spreads her legs wider, and beckons to her lover, and prepares to be devoured.


End file.
